It's a Guy Problem
by Mrs. HopeEstheim
Summary: "Can we not call it that? It's not a problem because there is no guy." EverElf. Evergreen x Elfman. ElfEver. One-Shot.


**EVERELF. Finally. I've been dying to write one of these forever. It's one of my typical thought-based fics, though, that I write when I don't have much else to write about and am just a teensy bit stuck on my other fics. BUT. It's here, and I hope you like it.**

**Evergreen and Elfman belong to Hiro Mashima! (as well as all other characters mentioned).**

**Here we go :)**

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><p>It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be <em>him<em>.

She had no idea when it had started, or why it had even begun, but the one thing that the girl with long, wavy, sand-colored locks couldn't deny was that she was falling for him. But of all people, why did it have to be _him_? He was annoying and loud and just so…so big. He was well muscled to the point that it was almost overdone, and yet she couldn't help but think it made him look good. And that scar under his eye just somehow added depth to his personality, and she was enamored. His large hands were almost _too_ large, but in her eyes they fit the man, and the man made her crazy inside.

Evergreen never wanted to fall for Elfman. She never wanted to see him in _this_ light. The light where every(manly)thing he did was perfect and a light under which he could do no wrong.

Numerous times, the woman had asked _what the hell is wrong with me?_ and could come up with no answer that refuted what she so desperately wanted to refute.

_I don't like him._

_I __**can't**__ like him._

Her thoughts sounded empty, even in her own mind. She _did_ like him, and that was just the problem. She couldn't concentrate when she went out on jobs with her teammates, so it was a good thing that Fried and Bixlow were quite capable of handling a few lowdown thieves and bandits, because _she_ wasn't being much help. Evergreen was too busy wallowing in self-loathing to be able to lift a hand and help them out of sticky situations. In fact, she'd accidentally-almost petrified Bixlow once, and from then on the two gave her a cautious look whenever they were about to engage in battle. So lost in her thoughts was she that Evergreen never even noticed it all until they told her when she asked them, furiously, why they looked scared of her whenever the enemy was in sight. After being informed, Evergreen had the decency to flush and apologize (a rarity for her, be assured), mortified that she had almost taken out her comrades instead of the opponents.

This whole Elfman thing was definitely _not_ good for her sanity.

But really, she couldn't help it. She just wanted to reach up and touch that soft, white hair (because really, it was soft–she'd learned that during the S-Class Exams, when she'd been his partner). Her fingers itched to run through those snow colored locks or even across his well-defined jaw. Her lips tingled at just the _thought_ of being able to _kiss_ him, and…_no!_ she was thinking those thoughts again!

_Why was she always thinking those thoughts?_

She tried to tell herself that Elfman wasn't her type. Because really, why would a beauty like her, the _real_ fairy queen, go after such a buff and…unbeautiful man as he?

Because he was _handsome_. He didn't need to be beautiful. Elfman's manliness was enough for Evergreen, because it made him strong and brave and loyal and just perfect. _Too damn perfect_. He was such a good brother to Lisanna and Mirajane. He was kind and loyal and even if he was made of this big chunk of flesh he could be gentle when it was needed. How could se resist him when he showed her those sides of himself? Seriously.

"Damn it!" she threw her hands up in frustration.

"Evergreen…?" Mirajane asked her timidly. Evergreen started; she'd already forgotten that she was sitting at the bar in front of _his_ sister.

"Gimme something strong, would you?" Evergreen asked–nearly _demanded_–of the lovely white-haired woman (the same white hair that Elfman had, though Evergreen wanted to deny having thought of that…_ever_).

"What's the problem?" Mira asked conversationally, as innocently as a little kid would. Evergreen knew that she was up to something because honestly, when was Mirajane _not_ up to something? However, she couldn't call the takeover mage out on it because Mira was rarely caught in the act, and even if she was no one said anything, for it might make her frown. And where would they all be if the lovely Mirajane frowned?

"I can't get that _idiot_ out of my head," Evergreen found herself growling anyway, even though she _knew_ she shouldn't tell the guild's resident self-appointed matchmaker. The glass that held her mixed drink was placed in front of her, and Evergreen sincerely hoped it was strong enough to make her forget her own foolishness. Telling Mira something like that was like signing your soul over to the devil. They didn't call her _Demon_ Mirajane for nothing in the past.

"Oh, so this is a _guy_ problem," the voice came out teasingly, and Evergreen groaned.

"Can we _not_ call it that? It's not a problem because there is no guy."

"Yet."

The light-haired brunette nearly choked on the drink she had taken and turned her eyes, glaringly, on the cheerfully smiling barmaid.

"What makes you think there _will_ be, Mirajane?" asked Evergreen, almost menacingly. She wasn't so sure she wanted to hear the answer, but she had already asked the question so now it was just time to wait for the answer that the white-haired ex-S-Class mage would give her.

She didn't expect the reply.

"Because you and Elfman are so _good_ together!"

"Me and El-El…? Un…"

She was surprised that Mira had noticed it, even though she shouldn't have been. But it was so mortifying to her that someone _had_ realized it–because if someone _else_ had realized it, didn't that mean that _he_ could have, too? Yes, it was so mortifying that she felt her world going dark. She tried to grip the bar tightly to prevent falling over, but in the action she dropped her glass, which shattered on the wooden countertop, and still toppled backwards off of her barstool in a dead faint in the end.

"Evergreen!" was called in Mira's concerned tone, and it was the last thing that the brunette heard.

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><p>"Ugh…" the horrible sound, Evergreen realized slowly, was coming from her own mouth. Disgusting. But why was it so hard for her to wake up? And why did it feel like she was in a bed when the last thing she could remember was starting to fall off of her stool at the bar with Mirajane calling out to her…?<p>

"Evergreen?"

Yeah, calling out to her like that. Only without the questioning tone.

"What?" she said groggily, opening her eyes and blinking away the blurriness of her vision. A white blob was the only thing she saw for a moment, and for a second she assumed it would be the Demon herself, but she blinked again and there _he _was, hovering over her with a concerned expression on his face. It made her breath catch momentarily before she reached up and slapped him, turning her head so that he might not see the color blossoming there.

"Ow! What was that for? Surprise attacks are not manly!" he said loudly, reaching up to touch the side of his face that was getting a handprint already and frowning.

"What are you doing, hovering over me like that, you fool?" Evergreen spat venomously, even though it physically hurt for her to say such things. She _couldn't_ like him that way. No.

_But she did_.

"You passed out at the bar and I wanted to make sure that you were okay! It's the manly thing to do!"

"I don't care if it's 'manly' or not!" said the light-haired brunette, harrumphing and crossing her arms across her chest after she had sat up. "It's almost like you're a creepy old pervert, hanging all over me like that, you idiot. Go away."

"No."

She turned toward him abruptly, frowning at him. And lo and behold, what is he doing but giving her the puppy dog eyes? How did that expression actually _work_ for a man of his age and size and beefiness?

_Why does he do this to me_?

"What the hell are you looking at me like that for?" she asked, turning her head away as quickly as she could manage. Again, the region of her cheeks burned hot and she knew that the accursed red of a blush would be there. But he had probably seen it, she knew. How could he have missed such an obvious sign?

She felt rather than saw his arms fall on either side of her, the bed dipping down slightly. His presence surrounded her, and it felt so surreal but so _strange_ and yet so _right_ all at once. They were alone in the infirmary at Fairy Tail. She was _alone_ with _him_. She didn't know what to do or how to act–did he know about her feelings, or was he just beginning to understand them now that he'd seen that damned blush on her face?

Sometimes she cursed her womanliness, for it made her flush when embarrassed and it was a coloring of her cheeks that she had never wanted him to see–especially since it was flushed that color because of _him_. That femininity was going to be the death of her denial.

"Look at me, Ever," he breathed in her ear. She jumped as his breath ghosted across her skin, sending a shiver up her spine. It was rare that people called her Ever, and the ones who did were usually Laxus, Fried, and Bixlow. But hearing her nickname of sorts coming from Elfman's lips was just…there was something different about it. It would have made her weak in the knees had she been on her feet, but she was sitting in a bed so she didn't have to worry about falling to the ground. And his tone…if she thought Elfman could be seductive, then that was what his tone was almost like. The thought of him being _seductive_ just about drove her hormones wild.

And yet she couldn't help but look at him like he had told her to.

"What?" she asked softly. Why did her voice have to come out so softly? Why couldn't it come out loudly and angrily, like she had intended (even if she wasn't really angry at all)?

"You've been avoiding me lately," he said, leaning more of his almost-but-not-quite excessive bulk over her, like a huge mountain. He was immovable. _Why was he so handsome like this?_ "Why, Ever?"

"Why not?" she tried, attempting to avert her gaze as she spoke coldly. She couldn't for long, though, because one of his large, strong, callused hands took her chin and turned her face back to him. He didn't say anything for a moment, just held her there while looking searchingly, into her eyes. Just a thought could turn him into stone, Evergreen knew, but she would never want to do that to him. Even if it could preserve his almost godlike physique for her forever (which was sorely tempting), she'd rather have him in the flesh.

As the thought crossed her mind, a bright flush exploded across her cheeks, and still she couldn't turn her head away. She saw the grin start to stretch across his face and she was even more mortified than when Mira had mentioned them together. He could see that she was blushing, and he wasn't _that_ much of an idiot–he knew exactly what it meant. Evergreen was absolutely sure of that fact.

"I thought so," he said smilingly, rubbing his thumb across one of her cherry red cheeks.

"Shut up," she said, closing her eyes against that masculine face. If she could block him out, then he wouldn't be there anymore (which wasn't true and was childish to think, but she was in denial). For him to learn her deepest, darkest secret like this made her embarrassed to no end, and she just wanted to melt into a puddle and soak into the bed sheets, never to be seen again.

"Denial isn't manly, Evergreen."

"I'm not a man!" she retorted, opening her eyes and casting an almost-glare at him. A cheerful smile graced his features, stretching his scar just slightly, but in an alluring way. The burning sensation in the brunette's cheeks grew.

"I know," he responded, and before Evergreen could lash out at him in anger or in her embarrassment, the big man was kissing her. And she let her hands run through his soft snow-white hair like she had been wanting to for months now as he released her chin to place his hand gently on her back. He was acting as though he might break her with the slightest action, and the woman found that she rather liked being treated as though she was fragile. It made her feel almost dainty, and more like a woman than she could remember feeling for a long time. His big hands just seemed to _fit_ wherever he placed them, and she wondered why she'd been so against this from the start. He was the exact embodiment of everything she wanted in a man, even down to his obsession with being manly. She could trust him to be more masculine than she sometimes was, since she was so harsh sometimes.

_Why didn't I ever give this a chance?_

"You're…an idiot," she finally said, several long moments after they had parted during which they had just examined each other's reactions.

Again, he just smiled and said, "I know."

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><p>When he led her out of the infirmary about fifteen minutes later, their hands were intertwined, fingers linked together, and sheepish little grins on their faces. It was like Mirajane's dreams had come true, and her smile lit up most of the guild, even if Evergreen and Elfman didn't notice it. In addition to Mira's cheerfulness, Bixlow and Fried could breathe sighs of relief–now she wouldn't be brooding and they wouldn't be turned to stone out on their jobs.<p>

Everything was back to normal, for the most part.

And what _wasn't_ normal anymore…well, Evergreen didn't _want_ that part to go back.

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><p><strong>END.<strong>

**Yes, this is a ONE-SHOT. So unless I somehow miraculously decide I want to continue it (which I probably won't-I've got too much other stuff to do), the Story Alert option won't do ya much good. But anyway, thanks so much for reading! Leave me a review to tell me how I did, 'kay?**

**I really hope you liked it...xD**


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